


Operator, That's Not the Way it Feels

by BarracudaHeart



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Implied Relationships, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, Wrong number
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 21:40:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7285741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarracudaHeart/pseuds/BarracudaHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Late night, emotionally compromised voice mails are a specialty of his. Checking to make sure it was going to the correct person, however, is not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Operator, That's Not the Way it Feels

His throat was dry and it slowly constricted down to his chest and was left to burn. He'd take care and drink some water but that would involve getting up, and he didn't want to risk standing in front of his bathroom mirror and feeling like he would burst into pathetic tears at his reflection. He hated how he cried so easily during this kind of stuff.

It was 10:30 in the evening and Lars couldn't sleep, understandably, since he was a night owl, but he was nearly immobile with exhaustion, and it felt like everything hurt.

The day had been shitty, because nothing had really happened. And it just felt wrong.

Lars had woken up late that day, nearly 2:30 on that Saturday afternoon, and he had to motivate himself to get out of bed and get ready for the day, maybe go spend some time with his friends that weekend. He'd checked his Facebook, and felt a bit of a sourness in his mouth when he saw Jenny had just posted pictures of herself, Buck, and Sour Cream happily traversing Marine Bay which was an hour's drive. They were still there. He'd slept through it. He felt stupid for not having been awake to catch up to them and hope for an invitation.

Sadie was visiting relatives in the next state over, she'd be gone until Monday. He couldn't go to her house and hang out like he normally would on lazy weekends.

He even asked Steven if he was busy. The boy apologized, that he was out at his family's barn again that day. Lars felt embarrassed for even asking a ten year old (at least Lars was near certain he was a ten year old) to hang out.

By 4 in the afternoon, after less than two hours of being awake, Lars was already done with this day.

He tried to distract from the loneliness of his room by playing video games, but that got old fast. So did painting. And even teasing his kitten with a string toy. None of it helped.

He wanted to cook, but when he got to the kitchen, all his parents' tax papers were littering the counters, and they were busily chattering over numbers at the kitchen table. Lars didn't want to bug them so he ventured back upstairs.

He listened to music for a while, but he'd zoned out so much, that when he recollected himself, it was 8 in the evening, and his eyes were feeling swollen and damp. He roughly rubbed at his face with the comforter.

He decided to call it a night at 9, not wanting to chance waiting for the day to get better, not when it was so late, and evidently all his friends were more content with each other than with him.

Of course they were. He was just an annoying nuisance, a tag-along, someone they pitied. It wasn't like they were ever going to invite him to anything.

He irritably tapped on his phone a bit, feeling a need to connect with someone, anyone.

He sighed as he shut his eyes and tapped his list of contacts for Sadie's number. He could ask how she was, just to hear someone else talk. He just needed to talk to someone.

She wasn't answering, her provider's automatic voice mail system kicked in, and Lars groaned. He may as well leave a message.

"Heyyy, Sadie," he laughed flatly, "Are you still awake over there or nah? You're not pickin' up so I'm just assuming you're asleep or somethin'. Anyway, ah-", he paused, "Nothing really happened for me today. It was just like...a really slow and boring day. I woke up super late, and there was nothing to do so I just kinda stayed around here."

He scratched his cheek a bit, "I got a little lonely here today. Nobody was in town, and I guess all my other friends went off to hang at another beach today and I overslept."

He cracked a tight smirk, "But it's not like they really even invited me. I just sort of uh...figured if I'd gotten up in time I would have gotten over there and hoped they decided to let me go with them, y'know?"

His kitten, Tama, hopped on his bed, and put their paws on his knee. Lars swallowed hard, "...they really don't invite me to a lot of stuff anyway. I just sort of get roped into it by chance if I'm there. They don't plan to have me there...I'm wondering if they're thinking it's annoying. If they think _I'm_ annoying and stupid..."

"And I don't even really think they don't, I mean they gave me a birthday cake and they bought my drawings at the art fair, but I just feel like- like they just have more fun without me. That everything is a lot better when I'm not around. "

"I don't offer much to anyone, and I just make people uncomfortable, " Lars mumbled flatly, feeling a familiar tightness in his chest, "Maybe that's why nobody invited me to anything today."

A pause. Then a bitter laugh.

"Or I'm just really stupid," he coughed, "That this is all that brain junk fucking me over again, and that I'm just falling back into that stupid shit again. Thinking everyone hates me when they don't but it still feels like it, and it all sucks so much."

"My pills don't work, " he continued, "All they do is keep me from being useless, and I still feel like shit. If anything I feel worse with 'em. Like I think I've thought about killing myself more over the last two months on these things than I did when- woah fuck, shit-", Lars gasped as he caught himself and realized what he was saying in his ramble. The image of Sadie hearing that come out of his mouth already was hurtful enough, and he started to cry.

"Oh god," he choked, and then involuntarily sobbed, "Sadie, I'm so sorry for saying that holy shit, I-I don't- I'm not gonna-," he breathed, "I just...I feel like shit...all the time. It's not even about what other people think of me anymore, it's what _I_ think about me...I hate it," he whimpered, "I just wanna be normal like everyone else," he tried to hide that he was crying, "I get so lonely, and I have all these people who like me and I just can't shake it. I'm trying I'm really trying I promise, please don't freak out over this, I'm just feeling really shitty right now I'm sorry just disregard everything I said OK I'm- " he swallowed hard, and nearly dropped the phone, "Fuck-", he hissed and hung up.

He and Sadie were pretty close confidants, but he never dropped the whole suicidal thing on her over a voice mail and then hung up like that. And he felt like a complete asshole for it.

He cried into his pillow as he imagined Sadie panicking over that voice-mail , and frantically trying to call him out of guilt that he might be dead. He didn't want that. He should have just said he was feeling bad then left it at that, he went way too far, he knew that much.

Tama pawed at his face and through his tears he scooped the kitten up and rubbed their ears with his thumb. He'd gotten the kitten as a birthday present from his parents, thinking the animal would cheer their boy up. They did. A little. But not enough.

"Hi sweetie," he croaked to the kitten, rubbing his wet cheek against their fur, getting a mewling squeak in response.

Laying on his side, still holding Tama to his chest, Lars let his tears empty out before he went to sleep.

* * *

Around 8 in the morning, Lars awoke to the doorbell, and without thought, went to answer it since his parents were out at church most likely.

Ronaldo stood at the door awkwardly stanced, and looking at Lars with wide eyes.

"Uhh, hey buddy," Ronaldo sing-songed, glancing away.

"Uh...hi...buddy ?", Lars cocked an eyebrow, not caring about his own appearance. Last time he saw Fryman was at a party that he'd not been invited to, but interestingly enough, Ronaldo had.

"You uh...doing alright there?"

"Uhhh, yeah?", Lars frowned, "Why?"

"Uhh...I think you sent me a message last night-"

"Message?", Lars frowned, then a rock sank in his stomach, "Oh fuck that was for Sadie, your guys' numbers are super close and-"

"I know but uh- the subject matter was ah...concerning to say the least-" Ronaldo frowned, pulling out his phone and replaying the voice-mail, looking at Lars with a concerned expression.

Lars turned pale as a sheet as he heard his own despondent and broken voice, and began to stammer, trying to come up with something quick enough to make the other go away.

"Look I was having a shitty night and-"

"Do you really want to kill yourself?", Ronaldo asked with a serious tone.

"No! I mean, not really but-", Lars sucked in a breath, "Look I'm still in my pajamas and it's not even your business man- I mean, Sadie and I are-"

"I know. You're close. But you were going to tell her all of that and-"

"I didn't mean for that, I was just rambling and got venty-"

"...are you ok?"

Lars was about to snap he was fine, but by this point he was too tired to even fight it, and he breathed deeply, "No. I'm not. Ok?"

Ronaldo paused, "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

The morning was silent for a moment, Ronaldo staring at Lars, the latter standing in the doorway staring tensely at the ground, fists clenched.

"Want to go out for breakfast?"

"Wh-?"

"We used to do stuff like that as kids, it's a Sunday morning, and I'm hungry," Ronaldo reasoned.

"Can I just go back to bed?", Lars groaned.

"I'll pay for your food."

"Man, I'm not even hungry," he muttered .

"Not even coffee?"

Lars rubbed the bridge of his nose and groaned, "Ugh, okay fine. Just wait in the living room while I get dressed, and don't touch anything with your grubby hands."

"They're clean, I promise," Ronaldo rolled his eyes, and stepped inside the house.

Lars was slow in dressing himself, wanting to stall as much as possible. The fact that Ronaldo had come all the way here over a rogue venting message he blubbered was less than promising, and he had a feeling that his old friend was not going to respect his wishes to not talk about it.

When he did finally get downstairs, Ronaldo was busy cuddling Tama on his knee, and the teen looked up, "When did you get a kitten? They're adorable!"

"A couple months ago," Lars mumbled, "My folks thought they'd make a nice birthday present."

"I never saw you as a kitten lover," Ronaldo handed the animal over.

Gently taking them in his hands, Lars cooed to Tama softly and held them against his shoulder, "Okay, but who in their right mind hates kittens?"

"True true," Ronaldo sighed, then fixed his glasses on his nose, "I've heard cats are good therapeutic animals."

"Any animal could be if you tried," Lars muttered, setting his pet down, and stretched his legs, "Still want breakfast?"

"Sure," Ronaldo nodded, then paused before he added, "Do you need your medication first?"

"Excuse me?"

"In your voice-mail you mentioned pills, do you have to take them before a set mealtime or-"

"Dude, lay off that ok?", the teen groaned irritably, "I take those things at night."

"Just checking, " Ronaldo nodded, "I wouldn't want to accidentally mess up anything for you."

"Probably can't get anymore messed up than I am now," Lars rolled his eyes, and looked at his phone history. He kicked himself seeing the voice-mail had indeed been sent to the wrong person.

The two walked to the local diner, the place with the most 'breakfast ' of menu items, with Lars trailing behind Ronaldo with a perpetual scowl and avoiding any glances sent back towards him.

They seated themselves at a booth, and Lars busied his hands with his phone.

"So uh..."

Lars looked up.

"Nevermind."

Rolling his eyes, Lars returned to scrolling on his phone, not caring what Ronaldo said.

A waitress took their orders. Lars, in spite of insisting he wasn't hungry, ordered eggs and bacon, Ronaldo wanted pancakes.

"I'll be hungry later. Besides, whatever I don't eat I can feed to Tama."

"You just spoil that cat, don't you?", Ronaldo gave a wistful smile at the soft spot he could sense in his old friend.

Lars dumped more creamer in his coffee, "They give me cuddles so I give them food, it's a mutual system."

"Huh," Ron kept his smile, and tended to his own coffee.

He was still worried about Lars. There was obviously things he was still hiding about himself, things he probably didn't even tell Sadie about.

Maybe it was for the best he didn't push to know everything going on with Lars right now. The teen was looking a little more than tense at being put on the spot and knowing everyone was curious about him. Lars was constantly catching attention when the only thing he wanted to do was sink into the wall.

Lars didn't want Ronaldo to look at him like that, all longing and nervous, it just squicked him out. He didn't want his old friend to try and sit him down and 'reach out ' or anything schmaltzy. He didn't want to feel like he was just getting attention for being sick in the head. Not anymore than this impromptu breakfast did.

"Hey, do y-"

"I said I don't want to talk about it!", Lars suddenly snapped, glaring at Ronaldo.

Ronaldo stared at him with wide eyes, slightly shocked at the sudden outburst, and mumbled, "I was just going to ask if you knew what time it is."

"Oh," Lars muttered.

"You know for someone who doesn't want to talk about this, you're acting like you really want to talk about it. "

"I don't, " Lars snapped, rubbing his forehead, "I just- I don't want you freaking out or thinking differently of me-"

"I don't think that much differently of you-"

"I mean, I basically dropped a huge dumb bomb on you, more than whatever I tell Sadie-"

"Like that you want to kill yourself?"

"...yeah, " Lars mumbled, "I mean I don't really want to but-"

"I understand," Ronaldo mumbled, fixing his glasses on his face.

"Lotta people just shut you out if you have any indication of that kind of stuff. Like, you'll just be a burden to them over time, and some sort of liability they have. That you're not ever gonna be normal enough for them to stay friends with."

Ronaldo watched Lars fidget with his hands as he continued, "I just don't want anyone to WORRY about me."

"Lars, of course your friends are going to worry about your troubles. That's what friends are supposed to do."

"But-"

"I'm not going to force you into doing anything you don't want to do, if that's what's bothering you...but it's not like I or any of your other friends will suddenly stop worrying about you."

Lars looked at Ronaldo for a few seconds, then stared at the table, dipping his head towards it, "God...damn it."

"What's wrong?"

"You're going to tell everyone else about this aren't you?"

Ronaldo frowned, "No, of course not, why would I?"

"Because you sure as hell are keen to tell everyone about anything else 'secret ', " Lars scowled, "So long as this shit is weird enough for you, you'll blab it to everyone won't you?"

Ronaldo sucked in his cheeks, realizing what Lars was referring to, "To be fair, this isn't something related to the paranormal. This is...this is your thing entirely. "

Lars glowered at his coffee.

"The last thing I'd want to do is make you feel embarrassed. This is your business...that I just happened to get a hold of on accident."

Rubbing his forehead, Lars muttered, "Like I said...just don't worry about me. This shit just happens every now and then. I always get better."

Ronaldo was silent a moment, then fixed his gaze on Lars, "And what if you don't the next time?"

"I don't know. "

The two cancelled their orders and paid for the coffee. Neither of them were hungry anymore.

They opted to walk to the pier, silently strolling through Fun Land and the other various attractions, keeping silent as they walked.

After an hour, they opted to sit on a bench overlooking the water. The afternoon was overcast, dark rainclouds rolling in and turning the horizon line gray.

Lars mumbled, "I think I might tell Sadie about this. And my therapist. Maybe I can switch my meds or something. "

"Maybe. Just be careful and take care of yourself OK?"

"Yeah whatever, " he muttered, and without much thought, closed his eyes, slumping against Ronaldo, his cheek pressing against his shoulder as he got comfortable, "Sorry you have to worry about me."

Ronaldo let his friend rest against him, snaking an arm around his waist to rub at his back, smiling a bit as he felt Lars involuntarily nuzzle his shoulder.

"I don't have to. I want to."


End file.
